#I only did them but if y’all have any other characters in mind let me know

[dulcewrites]

Which brands would HOTD characters wear in modern au?

I love this question. I will try also include visual aids and links so y’all get what I mean.

Alicent: I see modern Alicent looking exactly how Charlotte from satc does. Now this could be me being biased bc Charlotte is my fav girl from that show and Alicent is my fav from hotd, but I think Alicent would be a Ralph Lauren girlie much like her. Along with Ralph Lauren - alessandra rich, the row, and maxmara

Rhaenyra - I see her having a slightly edgier or effortlessly cool/sexy style. Bottega, off white, Versace, anine bing, Jean Paul gaultier. Nyra would like wearing men’s pieces as well

Aegon - Aegon would be one of those people who looks like he rolled out of bed, in the sense he puts little effort in, but has on clothes that are worth more than people’s student loans. Fiorucci, ALLSAINTS, Valentino

Aemond - idk if this is just me but Aemond is just… a cooperate man in my head. Maybe ewan has proportions that lends itself to eating up a suit. Obviously he can’t wear that all the time, but his suit game is crazy. His brands are brunello cucinelli, Tom ford, and dior… adidas lmao (iykyk)

Helaena - our bohemian and sparkly queen. The colorful one of the fam. Very girly and flowy. Loves jewelry, big jewelry girl. For her I see dolce vita, for love and lemons, reformation, Kika Vargas , schiaparelli, versace

Daeron: Very ‘all American boy’. He’s giving us catalogue model… honestly I could so see daeron being a child model lmao. His brands are Gap, Louis Vuitton, Rag and Bone, Nike. This gap x barbie collection shirt is so daeron to me

[catsukiiee]

# POSITIONS & R&B.

౨ৎ class 1-a & class 1-b boys x masc/fem!reader

[fan favorites only]

wordcount ; 893

paragraphs ; 41

sentences ; 53

songs used ; songs listed by each character.

all of them are their canon ages (24+)

# CLASS 1-A

# TENYA IIDA [ blame by bryson tiller ]

Tenya doesn’t care what position you two start off in, as long as he’s able to get inside you and hear your moans, then he’s sated. Unfortunately, though, our glorious king, Tenya Iida, cannot last long in any position where he can't see your face. That man NEEDS to see your face; he’s absolutely addicted to seeing your every reaction, especially when he goes deep, sound is not enough. He loves having you in the eagle position, don't even try hiding your face in the pillows.

“I wanna see your face, please.”

# DENKI KAMINARI. [ let em' know by bryson tiller ]

Desperate. That’s the only word I have for this motherfucker. Wanna have sex? He’s down. In doggystyle? Even better. Trust he’s losing his mind as soon as he sees you bend over; expect to have your hair pulled and your shoulders marked with bite marks at the end.

“Look at my little masterpieces.”

# EIJIRO KIRISHIMA [ gang over luv by brent faiyaz ]

As gentlemanly as he is, he’s far from a gentleman in the bedroom; in fact, his favorite position is low doggy. Simply because he can push your face into the mattress and go ham. You want to try and crawl away? Nah baby, he’s grabbing BOTH your arms and locking your ass down; you aren’t running until you’re both finished and he’s tired.

“Why are you moving? Cmere baby.”

# RIKIDO SATO [ ballin by partynextdoor ]

Lethal. He’s strong as fuck, so you better expect to have your pussy absolutely obliterated after a couple of deep strokes, but just like Iida, he needs to see your face to cum, and he's not pulling out either. His favorite position to put you in is young stallion.

That's exactly why y'all have five kids.

“A few more won’t hurt, baby.”

# HANTA SERO [ things & such b partynextdoor ]

THIS MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE IS CRAZY.

The moment you mention wanting to have sex, you don’t even need to move to the bedroom, he loves fucking your brains out on the couch anyway, locking one of your legs over his shoulder while his hands hold your other leg down to keep your legs open so he can watch himself going in and out, your hands WILL BE TIED. Sero is obsessed with watching your breasts bounce to, it drives him insane and makes him finish in a matter of minutes, and he’s not stopping even after cumming first.

The messier the better.

“Look at you sucking me in, goddamn.”

# SHOTO TODOROKI [ jaded by drake ]

Probably the calmest man you know outside the bedroom, but when you’re both in the mood? Your back will be hurting. He loves seeing your back arched; if he goes too deep and you ruin the arch, he’s pushing you right back down immediately.

“What did I say? Lower it back down.”

# IZUKU MIDORIYA [ can i by drake ]

A whole power bottom, he loves having you on top of him, guiding your hips while you ride him. When he's feeling a little adventurous, he likes to grab your throat, forcing your eyes to stay on his as he starts to fuck up into you. HE'S A WHINER. The closer he gets, the whinier he gets.

“Can I cum in you? Please let me cum in you. I wanna cum in you so bad, please. Fuck, I'm cumming."

# KATSUKI BAKUGOU [ altitude by monetell fish ]

As soon as the “Wanna have sex” comes out of your mouth, it’s over for you; it doesn’t matter if y’all are in the living room, bathroom, kitchen, or out in PUBLIC. Trust, he’s going to find a way to have your ass folded and panting. He likes folding you into a pretzel just as much as he likes having you on your hands and knees.

Wanna try and move his hands? They’re locked behind your back. Start squirming and crawling away? He’s got a solution for that ass.

“Stop fucking squirming and take it.”

# HITOSHI SHINSO [ first fuck by 6lack ft jhene aiko ]

Gentle touches and hard deep strokes.

He’s far more focused on having his hands explore your body while doing it, might accidentally brainwash you when he asks, “Is this okay?” or “Want me to go harder? I can’t understand you baby.” 

He loves positions where he can see your face as well.

# CLASS 1-B

# NEITO MONOMA [ sweat by zayn ]

This bitch cannot accept defeat; all that shit talking about lasting longer only to cum inside you after a couple of pumps, seeing your back glistening and your ass rippling each time his hips snapped against you was enough to send him over after five minutes. Don't worry though, he keeps going until you're finished, and then keeps going... and going just to get the 'last word' in his own way.

“What was that? All I hear are mumbles, tsk tsk, what a shame.”

# TETSUTETSU TETSUTETSU [ feel it by jacquees ]

Oh baby, he LOVES folding your ass as much as he loves your reactions to him going balls deep each time. Pulling your hair, shoving his fingers into your mouth when you got too loud, and pushing your back down into a deeper arch just to hit it deeper when he has you on your hands and knees.

'Overstimulation is key' is his mindset when he's fucking you.

“Yeah baby, keep cumming.”

i think y'all can tell who i listen to a lot and which characters are my favorite by writing this 💀..

I'M SORRY IF THE SONGS DON'T FIT THE CHARACTERS </3 THIS WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO JUST BE ABOUT SERO BUT THEN I HAD AN IDEA

TEACHERS ARE NEXT!

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 21

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings; language, minor alcohol, minor anxiety/worry but it's all fluff otherwise. 3k. Wow. We're finally here. It lowkey feels super surreal. The passage of time is wild and I don't remember when I started writing this fic, though I know I had a lot of it written before I started posting so that likely makes it seem longer. When it all comes down to it, this is one of my favourite fics that I've written. I'm proud of it. I'm incredibly thankful to everyone who's been reading it, reblogging and commenting, you are all wonderful and amazing. Stay tuned for plenty more one shots and lots of fun with our favourite characters in the future! Don't wanna miss a fic? Sign up for taglist here! Liked the story? Send me a ko-fi!

Now that you’ve finished the fic please feel free to head into my inbox & leave a legit honest review!! It helps me know what y’all like, what you didn’t like & how to improve future writing both here & elsewhere! 😘🩷

To say that Emily’s mind was not focused over the next twenty four hours would have been an understatement. She knew that dinner was occupying her thoughts, trying to think of the best way to get her words out without fumbling all over them or saying the wrong thing. She almost considered practicing by writing them down, having a speech ready to go if she forgot what she was supposed to be saying. She started to wonder if that alone was enough, if words would be strong enough to win you over or if she needed to stop for flowers, dessert or even something fancier on the way over to your place.

She thought she was doing a decent job of keeping it under wraps while at work until Tara asked what break in the case her and DiNozzo had discovered. When Emily’s brow furrowed the other woman pointed out Tony had been in her office for nearly an hour, the two of them involved in a deep conversation and she could only assume they’d discovered something. Emily’s cheeks burned as she bluffed the best reasoning she could think of before excusing herself back to her office. While the case had been the original reason Tony popped into her office, she’d roped him in to staying, saying he was the king of all movies and tropes, wondering if maybe now was the time for some grand gesture.

He'd shot that idea down, which is why she was pulling up to your place empty handed except for a bottle of wine. The biggest grand gesture she was planning was to greet you with a kiss neither of you would be able to forget. Her heart thudded against her rib cage as she waited for the elevator, letting out a breath in an attempt to relax herself the best she could, a kiss was a kiss, the worst thing that could happen was that you wouldn’t read into it the way she did.

You swung the door open, a soft smile on your cheeks as you stepped back to let her into your apartment. Her hand quickly found your waist but any and all plans she had immediately fell out the window at the hesitancy and anxiety wafting off you and vibrating through the air. She could tell your shoulders were tensed, and you didn’t melt into her embrace the way you normally did, so she settled for a kiss on the cheek as per your usual greeting, following you into the kitchen as she passed off the bottle of wine.

“I’ve got a white open if you want to start with that?” You offered, tucking the bottle she’d brought into the fridge and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” She smiled softly at you, watching you pull down a glass to fill for her, adding in a couple of ice cubes just as she liked it.

“How’s the case?” You asked, picking up your own wine as you leant against the island across from her, “Tony mentioned it was still pretty dead ended, I was kinda surprised you had time to make it tonight.”

“It’s a case.” She shrugged, “there’s only so much we can do right now. Figured it was best to let everyone have the night off, come back clear headed tomorrow.”

As her eyes swept through the kitchen she felt her own anxiety beginning to settle into her bones, her heart still strumming faster than usual in her chest. You had made the plan to stay in for dinner, so she wasn’t confused over your very casual attire of pyjama shorts and a cardigan, but aside from the wine bottle, there was no sign of intending to host tonight.

“Bummer.” You let out a sigh as you took a sip of wine, catching the way Emily nearly jumped at the sound of your voice, her jaw tightening and you were quick to finish you sentence, “about the case! Not that you had time to come over. That’s good, I’m glad. I just uh..” you let out an awkward laugh she wasn’t used to hearing, “didn’t want to make it sound like I was happy there was some psycho killer still out there.”

It was Emily’s turn to chuckle, taking another large sip of her drink, “no, I get it, it’s a tricky line to walk…”

Her accidentally chosen words hung heavily in the air, weighing down on both of you as you let out a quiet hum, staring over her shoulder, your wine glass in front of your face. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest so heavily you were almost certain Emily could hear it or at least could see the way the pulse point in your neck was jumping. It was part of the reason you’d pulled away so quickly at the front door, you didn’t want her to be able to feel it, or your clammy hands, she didn’t need to know you were nervous.

“Hey…” you were almost certain your voice cracked, “I uh, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her face shot up, trying to control the expression written across it when she finally caught your eye, “oh, yeah. Me too, but you first.”

You downed the rest of your wine, your glass likely hitting the island with a little too much velocity as the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could take a second thought. “I think we should end the arrangement.”

Emily felt her heart drop into her stomach, the butterflies that were once there crushed into a churning of bile as she swallowed. This certainly wasn’t what she had expected, she thought she’d read the situation right, followed Tony’s advice that was supposed to lead her in the right direction. Then she felt incredibly stupid, she read body language and people for a living when she’d known them for all of two seconds. Yet she’d spent incredibly intimate and personal hours with you and still didn’t manage to get the right vibe.

“Oh…I, okay.” She placed the half full glass of wine, her eyes not totally focused on anything before she scooped up her bag, “I’ll uh… get out of your hair then.”

You’d caught the way her face fell ever so briefly before she managed to mask it, your heart squeezing in your chest as you darted around the island, managing to catch her wrist in your hand.

“No! Emily, please, no.” You tugged her back to you and when she finally did focus on you there was an evident shimmer of tears threatening to spill into her eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” You let out a shaky laugh, tripping over your words you were speaking so quickly, “well, I guess it is what I meant, but not how I meant it.”

“You… want to rewrite the contract?” She asked hesitantly and you felt the heat creeping up your cheeks.

“More like I was thinking about ripping up the contract…”

There was a moment of relief washing through Emily that you could feel sparking through your body as she let out a breath. Her gaze was still pouring into you and the entire room suddenly felt too hot, causing you to shove up the sleeves of your cardigan, making sure they were settled above your elbows before undoing a couple of buttons to give you a little cool room to breathe. Emily’s eyes darted over your body as her mind continued to race.

“Listen, I.. god…” you shook your head with a laugh. Despite reciting what you wanted to say for hours, you were still totally flustered when it came to saying it to her face. It didn’t help that you suddenly noticed the way her eyes were flitting between your arms and your thighs. “What?”

She looked up, a curious expression on her face, “no blood drawn?”

“Huh?” Your brow furrowed, head titling in the adorable way Emily loved when you were utterly confused. When she was done shooting you heart eyes she suddenly realized her mistake, her tongue swiping out the corner of her mouth as she began to stutter over her words.

“Uh, just… last time you went out of town you had blood drawn.” She shrugged, “I guess I thought it was some kind of travel, germaphobe, don’t want to pick up a flu or something…” She trailed off, kicking herself for letting it slip out in the first place. Her eyes darted down to your thighs again before flicking up to your collarbone, tracing the line up your neck.

Your face relaxed, lips curving up into a small smile when you caught on to what she was doing, and what she really meant. “No…” You shook your head softly, reaching out to squeeze at her hand, “no blood drawn.”

You felt your chest swell, and Emily wanted nothing more than to kiss you to high heaven in that moment, never wanting to drop your hand no matter what the cost. Instead of getting her chance you spoke again, which, honestly, was probably for the best.

“God…” you laughed again, running a hand through your hair, “I really don’t know how to do this, I’ve never done it before.”

“Wait, what?” Her head tilted, “I thought you like, made a side hustle out of sugar babying.”

“No!” You laughed, “Oh my god I’ve done it once and that was like twenty years ago. We had a very specific end date written into the contract and knew nothing was ever going to come of it aside from my tuition.”

“But you’re so knowledgeable about the subject.” She pointed out, thinking back to how confidently you’d flown through the first few months of your relationship, how you always seemed to be a step or two ahead of her when it came to navigating your way through it.

“I’ve done my research?” You shrugged, “seen a lot of examples with Heather. Hell, with a good chunk of other politicians. Listen,” you squeezed at her hand again, pulling the focus back to the topic at hand, “I don’t know how to navigate it like this.” You gestured between the two of you, “I’m not good at it, I guess it’s another reason I’ve stayed so committed to the job… being committed to a person just kind of scares me. I’ve never felt safe enough to open up the way I needed to, never been relaxed around another person to just… let them into my life so comfortably. I don’t know why things happened so differently with you, so incredibly easily and I think that kinda freaks me out too, but I think that fear is more than worth it if it gives me the chance to be with you…really be with you. Because that’s all I really want.”

When she looked up from your joined hands Emily could hear her heart hammering between her ears, the butterflies from her stomach slowly creeping into her chest. You were fully opening yourself up to her, no matter how much it scared you and behind the hesitancy in your eyes she could see something else pouring out, something that she’d been seeing for weeks but was never ballsy enough to say something about.

“I’m hearing everything your saying and believe me I want to respond and I will, but can I do something first?” She asked.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Your brow furrowed for a second, thinking that she had to take a call, that over your racing heartbeat you hadn’t been able to hear her phone vibrate.

Instead you were letting out a little squeak in surprise when Emily stepped toward you, her hands gently cupping your face as she brought her lips to yours. Your arms easily wound around her shoulders, pulling her body directly into yours so you could absolutely melt against her. You were instantly lost into the kiss, feeling like everything inside of you was exploding in the best way possible. Somehow the thundering in Emily’s chest was calming down as her lips moved against yours with ease, as if that was exactly where they were meant to be. The sweet smell of your shampoo invaded her nose, you invaded every single one of her senses and there was absolutely nothing else that she could ever possibly want.

Her tongue traced the seam of your lips and you easily parted them, wanting nothing more than to be able to fully taste her. Your had crept up the back of her neck, fingers gently toying with the roots of her hair, your thumb stroking at her skin. Her tongue explored your mouth, rolling against your own and she couldn’t help but let out a small groan into the kiss. When your fingers ever so slightly tugged on her hair she retaliated by nipping at your lower lip while her own curved up into a grin. A small laugh broke free from your mouth, neither of you pulling away as you relaxed deeper into each other, giggles and smiles prevalent through a series of smaller kisses until you couldn’t stop them.

Emily’s forehead rested against your own as she stole one more kiss, her hand cupping your chin, thumb tracing your lower lip and you couldn’t help but press a tender kiss to it.

“I know it can be scary…” she started, “it scares me too and honestly I’m not sure if I’m particularly great at it either. I’ve been trying to untangle my thoughts and emotions for weeks, maybe even longer and it’s been driving me insane. All that I really know is that I love spending time with you, I’m happier when you’re around, you make me laugh, you encourage me to be my best, I even sleep better with you next to me and I want so much more of all of that in my life. So…maybe we can figure it out together?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a bright smile on your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye that absolutely made her weak in the knees, “I’d really like that.”

With another adorable giggle you surged closer to her, kissing her again, your hands tugging at the fabric of her shirt, pulling her impossibly close. You couldn’t get enough of each other and it made Emily laugh again between the kisses.

“Jeeze,” she shook her head, “I can’t believe DiNozzo was right.”

“DiNozzo?” You murmured; head full of butterflies as you stole another kiss. Though once his name was on your lips you were crashed back down to earth and you leant your torso away from her, “were you talking to Tony about our love life?!”

“Uh, maybe?” She winced, her cheeks tinging as she laughed, “I mean, it turned out he did give some pretty good advice.”

“Oh god.” You hung your head, “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

“At least it was worth it?” She suggested and you smiled across at her, pressing your lips to hers.

“It definitely was.”

Her hand caressed your cheek again as she leant in to kiss you, unable to help herself at this point and you weren’t about to deny her. Right as your lips met you jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

“You expecting someone?” She asked, her arm almost tightening around your waist as you laughed, swatting at her arm.

“It’s dinner.” You grabbed your wallet from the island, “did you really think I was going to cook after such a long day?”

Emily shook her head at the look in your eyes as you disappeared around the corner. Choosing to take the time you were dealing with the driver to collect your wine glasses from the island, refilling both before selecting cutlery and setting things up on the coffee table.

“Hope you’re okay with Indian,” you started, setting the bag down on the table as you tucked a leg under yourself on the couch, “I had a craving.”

“Cuisine doesn’t matter as long as I’m sharing it with you.” She replied and you felt your heart thud in your chest, your body melting at the look in her eyes as she gazed over at you.

“You fucking sap.” You teased, choosing to distract her from the misting of happy tears in your eyes by jumping into her lap, your lips meeting hers for another kiss.

Emily’s hands ghosted up your sides as yours settled on her face, thumbs stroking at her cheeks while your tongue explored her mouth. You let out a happy sigh into the kiss that she eagerly swallowed down, her entire being relaxing at the way you were melting into the embrace.

“What?” She asked softly, a smile on her face as she nudged your nose with hers.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, unable to control your own bright smile.

“Oh c’mon.” She prodded at your sides, earning a squeal from you, “don’t pull that crap anymore.”

You laughed, gazing down at her as your thumbs continued to soothe across her cheeks, “I just guess I’ve spent so long avoiding it and being scared that I never realized it could be this easy to fall in love...”

“You’re in love with me?” If it had been even a day earlier the question would have been filled with worry, but right now Emily asked it with a tease in her voice, because she already knew the answer. You didn’t need to say it, she could feel it, the warmth flowing through the room, wrapping itself around the two of you as you perched in her lap. She wasn’t scared to hear anything you had to say and she knew she felt the same way.

“Yeah…yeah I am.”

“Good.” Her hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you to her for another kiss, this one deeper and a little longer than the last. One that you could feel her emotion in, joy dancing deep through your veins as your heart began to strum in time with hers, “because I’ve been in love with you for weeks. I never thought we could end up like this when we started… but here we are.”

“Mmm.” You left a kiss on the tip of her nose, “and I wouldn’t have it any either way.”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[juniperskye]

Silence is Louder than Words.

Sneak peek: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, Tommy gets them set up in a home on the outskirts of the community (per Joel’s request). Joel notices they have a neighbor and takes an interest in her. Tommy lets him know that they don’t know much about you other than you had been through some serious shit, but that you haven’t spoken a word since you’d arrived in Jackson. Tommy asks Joel to keep an eye on you…and in doing so, Joel may just be able to break through your defenses.

Joel Miller x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3512

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited, I did my best (ngl I had so much more planned for this but it didn't seem like it would work in this part of the story...so maybe more to come. IDK) - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, minimal use of y/n (there were parts it just couldn’t be avoided), No description of reader other than she/her pronouns and her sister was similar to Ellie (could be perceived as personality), implied age gap (kinda?), explicit language, reader has selective mutism due to trauma, Canon typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, mention of r*pe (past trauma, not detailed), mention of pregnancy (past, not detailed), mention of child murder (past, some detail), mention of murder. IF THESE ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU, DO NOT READ!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Joel, it’s really good to have you guys back here…safe.” Tommy said, pulling away from Joel.

“We’re glad to be back.” Joel grunted.

“Well, I have you guys situated in a house on the outermost part of the community. I figured you’d prefer it that way.” Tommy explained.

“Thanks Tommy.” Joel nodded.

Tommy led Ellie and Joel over to a house that was quite literally on the outskirts of the Jackson compound. Joel took note of the lack of neighbors as they walked further and further and it put his mind at ease, knowing he’d have some privacy. As they neared the house, it was Ellie who noticed the small white house just off to the left of their own.

“Who lives there?” Ellie questioned.

“Oh, that’s Y/N’s house. She’s real quiet, y’all won’t have to worry about her stirring up any trouble.” Tommy informed.

“I thought you said no neighbors?” Joel gruffed.

“Joel, she’s quiet. You don’t have to worry about that. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d keep an eye on her, just make sure she’s okay.” Tommy pleaded.

“Tommy, I’m not gonna play babysitter for a grown ass woman.”

“That’s not what I’m askin’ and you know it. She just – she’s been through it. She keeps to herself mostly and Maria and I worry about her.” Tommy explained.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her. But I’m not gonna go and chit chat with her.” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect that.” Tommy began. “From either of you.” He mumbled. “Why don’t y’all head in and get settled, you can meet Maria and me for dinner. Sound good?”

“We will be there!” Ellie replied, pulling Joel inside by the sleeve before he could decline.

Joel couldn’t help but wonder why Tommy was so worried about you. Tommy had boasted about how the people of Jackson were all strong and each held their own. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, what was your deal? He’d mentioned that you had gone through some tough shit, but what was it? He had to say, he was intrigued.

His interest only grew once he saw you for the first time. It was about a week after his and Ellie’s arrival back in Jackson. You had been walking around the mess hall with a basket full of homemade goods, passing them around to people. He’d seen you pass out a few bottles of what he assumed to be some sort of toiletries as well as some clothing items to various people.

Joel waited until Ellie had run off to sit with some of her new friends to ask about you.

“So, what’s her deal?” Joel inquired.

“Who? Y/N…I thought you weren’t playing babysitter?” Tommy teased.

“I’m not. I just want to know why you think she needs looking after.” Joel replied.

“Honestly Joel, we don’t know much about her. She hasn’t said a single word in the four years she’s lived here.” Maria informed.

“Bullshit. She’s said somethin’ at some point.” Joel scoffed.

“No, Joel she really hasn’t. She knows some sign, but she mostly writes stuff down if she really needs to communicate.” Tommy said.

“Damn. Well, what’s her role around here since she doesn’t talk?” Joel couldn’t help but be confused.

“She makes all sorts of stuff for the people of our community. She’s figured out how to make shampoo, soap, lotion, sunblock, toothpaste…I mean the list goes on. She also repairs clothing when necessary, she’s the best seamstress in town.” Maria smiled at how wonderful you’d been since your arrival, jumping right in to contribute.

Joel was taken aback at how much you clearly brought to the community. Despite your silence, you’d made yourself known. Joel could see how you were well liked based on the greetings you’d received from those you were delivering to. He found it very odd that you’d keep to yourself despite Jackson’s fondness for you.

Joel had always been a loner, but it had been due to his stubbornness, sarcasm, potty mouth and overall negative attitude. His mother had always said “Joel, ever the pessimist” when he’d say something even remotely negative in his youth.

Learning all this about you had only transformed Joel’s intrigue into a need to know you. He couldn’t help how he was drawn to you, he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you were kindred spirits.

Joel woke with a gasp, his body covered in a cold sweat. Another nightmare, it had been the same recurring dream night after night since he’d found Ellie. Every time he made it through the hospital, and he’d gotten to the operating room, only this time he barges in to see the doctor holding her brain in his hands.

He woke up the same way too. Startled awake, laying in a pool of his own sweat. Joel tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He thought about it and decided to take a walk to clear his mind, now that he and Ellie were in the safe confines of Jackson, he was able to do so.

Joel didn’t want to stray too far in the case that Ellie needed him, so he was more so pacing from the front of their house, over to the front of yours. It was a warm and humid evening; Jackson had been nearing Autumn and Joel was looking forward to the break in the weather.

A muffled shout pulled Joel’s attention from smacking the mosquito that had surely bitten him by now. He glanced back toward his house to see if Ellie’s light had been turned on – nothing. He shook his head, ready to brush away the thought when he heard a louder scream, only it was coming from your home.

Joel rushed to the door listening just to be sure and when he heard you scream again he was quick to open the door. He was surprised to find it unlocked, although the people of Jackson seemed at ease in their community.

He swiftly surveyed the room, desperate to find you and ensure your safety. Joel found you thrashing around on your couch, screaming, begging for help. He made his way over to where you were laying and gently placed his hand on your shoulder. He shook you a few times to rouse you, but when you woke, you hadn’t reacted how Joel would have expected.

“What? What are you doing here? GET OUT!” You shouted, pushing Joel away from you.

Joel shot up, mostly in shock at hearing you speak for the first time, but also to follow your request. He made his leave, not wanting to upset you any further.

You couldn’t believe it. Joel had come into your home and woken you up. What was he thinking? Why had he been there? Had your nightmare haunted you so badly that your screams could be heard from his home? You were horrified and humiliated. You had done so well, hiding your demons, shoving them down so far that no one could see, and in a single night they’d all come out and bore themselves to none other than Joel miller.

The next few days were horrible. You had done everything in your power to avoid Joel, who seemed to be seeking you out. On top of that, your insomnia had made a wonderful return. Your mind refusing respite in fear of Joel finding you in another traumatic night terror.

You weren’t sure what had even caused your nightmare that night. You hadn’t had one in nearly a year, but thinking about it, there were a few potential triggers that came to mind. The first possibility was Maria being far enough along in her pregnancy to be showing, the second being Ellie’s striking similarities to your sister, and the last being Tommy’s mention of them finding and taking care of some raiders on his patrol that day.

Hell, it was probably a combination of all those things that had you reliving some of the worst moments of your life. You hoped that the feelings would soon pass so you could get some sleep.

“Tommy, I need you to be straight with me. What happened to Y/N before she got here? Like what do you know about her?” Joel pushed.

“Joel, I already told you we don’t know much.” Tommy huffed.

“But you know something!”

“Okay listen, she arrived here alone. She had a small pack with her and that was it. Maria and I sat with her and asked her dozens of questions, and we didn’t get a single word out of her. I stepped out to deal with something and when I got back, she had been writing her responses to Maria. I know that she had previously been with a group but none of them survived. And based on what I saw, I’d say whatever happened wasn’t pretty.” Tommy explained.

Joel just nodded, content with learning more about you. But still so curious to know what was haunting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to protect you. Of wanting to find what was causing you harm and making it so it could never hurt you again. He’s trying desperately to figure out this need to hold you and make everything okay, why he was so drawn to you.

“Look Joel, Maria told you how much she does for the community, and you’ve seen for yourself that she sticks to herself, she’s quiet, and she doesn’t cause trouble. So, we don’t push her to know more. The last thing I will say is that whatever she went through…she is a damn good shot. Do with that information what you will.” Tommy patted Joel on the shoulder and walked off.

Joel sat with the information for a bit. Had you been forced to kill your way to Jackson, is that what was haunting you? That is something that is justified, those things, they aren’t people anymore and raiders well if you didn’t kill them, then they surely would kill you so again justified. It had to have been something far worse if you refused to speak.

Joel decided he’d observe you, and he’d be there when you had another nightmare. Since losing Sarah, Joel hadn’t really wanted to be around anyone. Tess was stubborn, more so than Joel, so she was able to force herself in – and even then he didn’t open up much. And well, Ellie, she was his second chance at being a dad. But you, you had come in and taken up residency in Joel’s mind and it was because of that feeling, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time, that he knew he needed to break down your walls.

And that is how Joel found himself trying to comfort you through another nightmare. Joel had been out walking late at night again, the nights had started to finally cool off and he’d found it helped clear his head to take walks like this one.

It was nearing two in the morning when he heard it, your cries for help. He made his way up your porch steps and carefully tried the handle, saying a silent cheer when the handle turned, and the door gave way.

This had been different than the last time, as he approached you, he noticed the tear tracks lining your cheeks and he could hear your quiet whimpers. He knew he had to do this right if he was going to get you to let him in.

“Sweetheart? Wake up, you’re safe. I’m here and you are okay.” He gently shook you.

You woke up, startled once again to find Joel Miller is the one waking you. This man had a lot of nerve letting himself into your house, yet again, and while you’d love to give him an earful right now, the pain of what your nightmare had brought forth in your mind was crippling.

So, you threw yourself into Joel’s arms. He wrapped himself around you and repositioned himself, so he was sat on the couch, and you were in his lap. Your face was buried in his neck and his arms were tight around your waist. He ran his fingers gently through your hair and whispered reassurances in your ear.

He held you until you fell asleep and when you woke up at sunrise, he released you and saw himself out. He knew he had to gain your trust, and it would take time. This is how it would need to be done, he would have to keep quiet and leave when the morning came.

A few hours later, after he and Ellie had breakfast, she was heading out to school. Joel was expecting her to leave like usual, so he was pretty confused when she returned to the kitchen carrying a small wicker basket.

“This was on the porch, I gotta head to class or I’ll be late!” She waved and headed out.

“Thanks kiddo. Have a good day.” Joel said goodbye.

He slowly pulled the items from the basket and a small smile graced his features. He brought them out one-by-one, a bottle of sunscreen, a bar of soap, some solid deodorant and a new flannel shirt. Beneath everything was a small note.

"Joel, I wanted to give you these as a sort of thank you and apology. Sorry for yelling at you that first night and thank you for last night. I figured you and Ellie could use some hygiene products that weren’t pre-apocalyptic. I also noticed how torn up your flannel had been and wanted you to have one that wasn’t threadbare.                                                                                                 -Y/N”

Joel’s smile grew, this was just the beginning of his mission to break down your walls and it was off to a successful start.

You proceeded to have nightmares at least twice a week for the next three months. Joel was with you for every single one. Each time he’d gently wake you and he’d shush you, assuring that you were okay. The only thing that had changed was that more recently, Joel would carry you off of the couch and to your room, where he’d hold you close until you fell asleep.

In the last week the nightmares had come every night, and while Joel so badly wanted to ask why, he knew that he had to let you come to him. You had spoken to him in two-to-three-word responses in the last few weeks and Joel was so glad that you’d been able to open up to him even that much.

What he didn’t know was that the reason your nightmares had become more frequent was because Maria had finally given birth. Seeing her with her baby had been killing you, it had brought back so many awful memories and you knew that you’d need to tell Joel. You’d wanted to tell him days ago why you had been having such a hard time, but you were also terrified of it changing the dynamic between you.

Something was different tonight; you had slipped Joel a note during dinner at the mess hall, inviting him to come by your place a bit earlier. When he arrived you couldn’t help but be nervous, you felt so unsure of everything, but you were starting to trust Joel and some part of you knew that he would understand everything.

You had decided it was now or never. He had been with you every night of the week and he never pushed you to share. He told you about what he had been through and some of the things he had done to get here and had let you meet him with silence. You supposed now was your turn to share.

“Joel?”

“Yeah sweetheart?” He tried to hide his surprise at your initiation.

“I want to tell you what happened…is that okay?”

“Of course, sweet girl. Only share what you’re comfortable with okay? I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Joel pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“So, it started with my sister and I, she was younger than me, Ellie reminds me a lot of her. She and I well, we got caught up with these raiders. Well, they, they uh…” You choked.

“It’s okay honey, take your time.” Joel rubbed a soothing hand down your spine.

“They forced themselves on us and left us both beaten and bloody. After that, my sister was in a bad way Joel. She uh, she was reckless and careless, and she got herself killed. And well, I ended up pregnant. I found my way to this small group of people that were headed here to Jackson. I guess they had heard it was a community and it was safe. We lost people along the way and sometimes we’d stop and stay somewhere for a month or so if we found it suitable. Anyway, by this time there’s only four of us left and I had my baby…” Tears started freely flowing down your face and Joel gently wiped them away.

“Sweetheart you really don’t have to…” Joel could tell where this was going.

“I need to say it. I’ve never said this out loud and I need to. My son was born, and he was beautiful. But he had colic and so he cried all the time. I did everything I could to keep him quiet as we went but it was putting us in danger, and I knew it. I offered to let them go on without me, I told them that he and I would come when he’d grown out of it. But a little while later I’d woken up to find him dead.” You sobbed. “They had suffocated him, claiming that we’d never get anywhere with him crying all the time and that they didn’t want to leave me behind. I killed them all Joel. I didn’t even hesitate. I pulled my gun out and I shot all three of them and then I left and never turned back.”

Everything came together, it had all started to make perfect sense. You’d held onto this guilt for the last four to five years. Survivors guilt over the loss of your sister, guilt of not being there for your child – something Joel knew all too well, and the guilt of killing people that you once cared about. He completely understood, he too would’ve stayed silent had he been through all that you had. What is there to say when you’ve lost everyone.

Joel held you tighter, allowing you to cry softly into his chest. He wanted to give you a few moments to calm yourself down before he said anything to you. He knew how delicate this situation was, and he needed to do things right.

“Sweetheart, I want to start by saying how sorry I am. I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. I also want you to know that you can’t feel guilty, and I know that it’s easier said than done but darlin’ you did everything you needed to in order to survive. You wouldn’t be here any other way baby girl.” Joel pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Thank you Joel. For being here and for – for listening to me. I can’t quite explain it, but I trust you and so, I don’t know, I just wanted to tell you. Having you around has made me feel better honestly and it’s sort of the only way I can sleep anymore.” You explained.

“I trust you too baby, and you’re not the only one. I sleep better with you here too, having you in my arms these last few months, it’s been amazing. Besides Tommy and Ellie, I think you’re about the only person I trust.” Joel smiled down at you.

From then on, things had changed between Joel and you. He was the only person you talked to, you shared everything with him. Joel and you spent every night together some nights at your place and more recently, some nights at his. Initially, you’d expressed your worries in doing so, you told him you didn’t want the entire town to know, and you were worried about running into Ellie in the hallway.

Joel had told you that there was no need for some public spectacle and that there was no need for worries that it would get out amongst the townies. He also reassured you that Ellie was a good kid, and she could keep a secret.

So, little by little you opened up to Joel, Ellie, and soon enough Maria and Tommy too. The five of you had become a family, you’d found that you fit into it almost too well, so much so that it was beginning to scare you.

Despite your fears, you allowed yourself to fall. Joel had proven to you time and time again that he was there for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d also gotten you living by the philosophy that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and you needed to take this life while you had it.

So, you did.

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Any guide on Elle woods / hermione / rory coz I had no study motivation 😮‍💨

“she’s like a real life rory gilmore…”

fictional study icons guide, part 1: rory gilmore

ty for the ask! i’m gonna make this multiple parts, next will be elle woods, i never read/ watched harry potter tho so idk about hermione 🫣 but if y’all want me to do other characters, feel free to send ideas!

know your goals

rory had a clear idea of what she wanted for herself: to go to harvard & to become a journalist. when school & studying starts to feel tedious or difficult, having a strong “why” will keep you going. maybe you want to get into a certain school, you have a dream career path, or you want to become extra knowledgeable. never lose sight of your goal - surround yourself with reminders of it. rory had harvard memorabilia hanging in her room as a constant reminder of what she was working towards. you can create a vision board online, print pictures & hang them in your room, put notes up on your mirrors & walls. remember that classes, tests, & assignments are all leading you to a greater goal. studying is a means to an end and you deserve the best ending!

study a lot

rory prioritized her studies and spent a lot of her free time on schoolwork. the easiest way to succeed is to put in the time. don’t cut corners when it comes to your education - do your homework and assignments diligently, go through assigned readings & videos carefully, & if the teacher gives you optional/additional work, do it. remember tho, it’s important to study smarter, not harder. the most beneficial thing you can do is spend as much time as possible utilizing study methods that work for you. don’t waste time on study methods that aren’t effective for you. you can search my older posts for info about study styles or google learning styles & use that to help determine your best approach to schoolwork.

conquer challenges asap

when rory first started going to chilton, she unexpectedly got a bad grade on one of her first essays. she could have sat there and made excuses, felt sorry for herself and blamed the school/ teachers, but instead she worked extra hard to improve and overcome that poor grade. in the end she was valedictorian, showing that she was able to rise to the challenge and ultimately succeed. if you find yourself struggling with schoolwork, please take initiative asap and get whatever help you need. utilize all your resources - teachers, classmates, youtube video explanations, khan academy, tutors (if possible) - do not allow a dip in performance to be your norm. try to get to the bottom of why you’re struggling and then take care of whatever’s causing it. if you let yourself succumb to the struggle - telling yourself it’s because of bad teachers, the content is too hard, etc. - the only person who is gonna suffer in the long run is you. be proactive and take charge of your education.

take breaks

while rory did spend a lot of her time studying, it didn’t rule her whole life. she still made time for friends, family, and fun activities. life is about balance, and you don’t want to burn yourself out by spending every waking moment on school. take breaks for fun, to spend time with loved ones, to get fresh air & be active. give your mind breaks so that you can stay in top shape. that being said, make sure you strike a balance. don’t let your social life get in the way of your academics, but don’t let studying stop you from living life.

read a lot!

when i think of rory, i think of reading. she always has her nose in a book! she not only reads, but she reads books that are thought-provoking and intellectual - classics, non-fiction, and so on. reading is a wonderful hobby and it can also be a way to expand your mind. challenge yourself by reading books that are somewhat difficult to challenge yourself to read closely & dissect the content. find classics that genuinely interest you or non fiction on topics you enjoy. combine the fun of reading with the desire for intellectual growth. by reading more difficult books you can improve your vocabulary, build you reading comprehension skills, become better at analyzing literary devices, and overall become a more interesting person.

that’s all! have a great school year & best of luck with your studies! 🩷

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Clean Cut 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live with your tyrannical aunt and meet a man who can relate to your familial dejection.

Characters: Thor

This is a spinoff of Dirty Work

Note: I feel as if someone is crushing my uterus between two stones so needless to say today is gonna be the wooooorst. But hope y’all are well.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

The door of the bakery swings open before you can reach it. You stand back, given pause in the same moment by the ding of your phone. You keep the ringer on, knowing better than to miss a single message. You know who it is before you even look at the screen. There is only one person it could be. 

‘How long?’ Aunt Bonnie’s message is terse and to the point. You can hear her usual rigid tone through the text. 

You step back, out of the way of other pedestrians, and key in your reply. ‘At the bakery now.’ 

You don’t expect a response. She’d be disappointed if you were pulling into the driveway. The message alone tells you that you’re already late, even if you’re well ahead of schedule. 

You tuck your phone into your pocket and reach for the long bar across the bakery door. Before you can grip it, another hand wraps around the tarnished metal. You once more shy away as the tall man pulls open the door and stands back. 

“After you,” his deep timbre insists. 

You nod, chin straight, and thank him politely as you enter. You join the queue, your delay having you further back than you could’ve been. The bakery is even warmer than outside and adds to the sweat speckling along your nape. You tug at your high collar, not the best choice at the height of spring. Summer will be there soon and you don’t expect the stiff fabric will be any more forgiving. 

The man lines up behind you. Your mind reels with doubt. Should you offer him your spot? He did hold the door and technically would have been ahead of you. You sway in indecision; caught between what is proper and appeasing your aunt as quickly as you can. What’s a few more minutes? 

You turn and look up at the man as he rubs his eye socket and winces. You gasp at the sight of him, surprised by the purplish splotch that darkens nearly half his face. And the way he stands; as tall as he is, he hunches in one shoulder, his hand falling to cradle his ribs. 

“Oh my, what happened?” You ask before you can censor your curiosity. You pucker your lips guilty then flatten them to an apologetic smile, “sorry, I...” 

He clears his throat and shakes his head, “no matter, I am quite a mess.” He looks down at himself and shrugs, flinching as it no doubt pains his battered body. “I suppose you might chalk it up to a sibling rivalry.” 

You bat your lashes and nod, not sure of his meaning. You peer side to side, then back to him, recalling your original intent. You lift your chin to look up at him. He’s very big and blond and burly. 

“Um, I thought maybe... you were ahead of me,” you explain, “I’ve taken your spot, sir.” 

He considers you, eyes narrowing as his head tilts. He keeps his hand against his ribs and coughs, “nah, it is no issue. It’s only right to let a lady go first. My mother always said so.” 

“Oh, lady?” You echo in surprise, “I...” you look down at yourself. You’ve never been called a lady before, “thank you.” 

He hums and you turn back to move along with the queue. He shuffles behind you, looming. People don’t often notice you. It could be your clothing; plain, straight cut, muted, nothing special, just like you. As with anything in your life, you have only what Aunt Bonnie allows you to have. 

“The strawberry tarts are good,” the man suggests and you glance up over your shoulder at him, “pardon again, lady, I cannot read the specials board.” 

His left eye is swollen amid the blackened bruising. Another pang of sympathy tweaks in your chest. You look back to the count and read the small chalkboard by the till; “Earl Grey cookie, two for three, or apple blossoms, half off with a full pie or dozen muffins.” 

“Ah, think I’ll stick with the usual,” he mutters. “Do you have a favourite?” 

You’re surprised, and most unprepared, for his continued conversation. You dab your forehead with the back of your hand then drop it to tug at your stiff cuff. You push your shoulders up and rock back and forth, still facing the counter, “only here to grab an order for my aunt.” 

“Oh, that’s lovely. Very helpful of you. She must appreciate that,” he remarks. 

“Mm, yeah, I... try to help,” you answer and pick at your sleeve. 

“It is good to keep family close,” he exhales sonorously, “you never know...” he trails off and hisses. You peek back again as he daintily touches his cheek. “My mother loves this bakery but suppose she would throw anything I got her in my face these days.” 

You don’t know what to say. He looks worse for wear and sounds just as bad. Whatever happened can’t have been very nice. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, uncertain what other comfort you can offer the stranger. 

“Ah, but you know what they say,” he smiles bitterly, his cheek twitching, though you cannot tell if it is borne of pain or spite, “Walpurgisnacht is a new beginning. With it comes great change, eh?” 

“Walpurgisnacht?” You repeat, “yes, I... I suppose so...” 

“Did you not celebrate?” He wonders. 

You shake your head. You were not invited. That isn’t very unusual. You spent the night cleaning and when all was spotless, you hid in your room with a book. 

“Ah, I had it that everyone attended,” he says, “my mother did make sure to invite all within the county.” 

His mother? Your Aunt Bonnie mentioned that Frigga Odinson was sure to send an invitation to every household within a radius. She could not help but rant about the event, more envious than excited. You never went to any of the Odinson affairs, you were never included, though you never paid much mind to the fact. 

“Your mother is Frigga?” You ask as the customer ahead of you walks away with their order. 

“So she is, if she would still call herself as much,” he sniffs. 

“Pardon, sorry,” you apologise and scurry up to the counter, not wanting to make the clerk wait, “hi, er, I have an order number.”  

You unlock your phone, your notes app is already open with your list of to-dos. You read out the code and the man goes to retrieve the cake. You wait anxiously, bouncing on your heels. When he returns, you pay with the exact amount in cash as your aunt counted out and thank him. 

You take the box and turn, nearly colliding with the tall blond man. You move aside, penned in by those waiting for their order and the queue of new arrivals. He pays and sidles along close to you. 

“Party?” He asks as he looks at the box in your hands. 

“My cousin’s birthday,” you explain and look up at the clock on the wall, “I should go...” 

“Yes, you should. As I said, family is very important,” he insists glumly and looks around, “Oi, the lady needs through,” he says to the man crowding you from your other side, “move aside then.” 

The man looks over sharply but his glare dissolves quickly as he sees who bosses him around. He backs up enough for you to get through. The stranger, an Odinson as he claims, follows. 

“Before you go, lady,” he says, “might I have your name?” 

You turn back to him. You remember your aunt talking about Walpurgisnacht with your cousins. She said there was some trouble but you didn’t hear much more than that. She always caught you listening in so you do your best not to. 

You give your name as you connect the pieces, “and you’re Thor Odinson?” 

“You know me,” he smiles. 

“My cousins spoke of you. They were at Walpurgisnacht.” 

“Mm, a pity you were not,” he drawls as his lips curve slightly. 

“It was nice meeting you but I should go now,” you look over your shoulder, “my aunt is waiting on me.” 

“Better hurry then,” he says, “perhaps we might run into one another again.” 

“Er, maybe,” you agree thinly. It isn’t likely. You don’t go very many places, not without permission. “I hope things get better for you. Oh and I read that witch hazel works for bruises but I never tried it.” 

“Witch hazel?” He repeats and touches his split brow, “I shall try it. Thank you.” 

You turn to go and feel his gaze clinging to you. Thor Odinson. You’ve heard of him, as you’ve heard of the rest of his family. His mother has appeared at your aunt’s brunches on occasion and his father’s name is spoken often by your uncle. What you know is that they’re rich and that your aunt resents everything about them. You guess it’s why she tries so hard to be like them. 

All that doesn’t matter then. What matters is that you get home with the cake and everything else or you’ll spoil the whole party. Regardless, Aunt Bonnie will surely find some mistake to needle away at. 

🫧

You place the box on the counter as Aunt Bonnie orders around the chef. You don’t know why she didn’t have them also do the cake but you don’t dare ask. Before you can flee, she turns and catches you mid-step. She snaps her fingers and you stay. 

She goes to the deep box and lifts the lid. Her sigh fills you with dread. Her lashes flutter in exasperation and you frown. What is it now? 

“Are you serious right now? I asked for blush, not rose. Harriet will hate it.” She snarls and balls her fists as she tilts her face to the ceiling. “I told you to check. Have I not been working myself ragged to make today the absolute perfect day for my little girl? Hm, do you hate your cousin so much?” 

“No, Aunt Bonnie, I’m sorry. I did check. In the car. I thought--” 

“You have a poor eye. Or perhaps you are just like your mother. She always was jealous, she did all she could to sabotage me. She even pawned you off on me,” she sneers. 

You lower your eyes, “I can go back.” 

“And what do you think they would redo it for free? You left the store. I’ve dealt with those bakers before and they are a stingy lot. That Frigga swears by them and yet every time I go, I am disappointed.” She scoffs and wipes her hands. “Never to worry, I shall make sure at least that my part is adequate. Mm,” she pauses, “perhaps I am should not be disappointed in them. They’ve an excuse for their mistakes.” 

The look she gives you scalds. You stare at the shining tile floor. “Can I help--” 

“Yes, go set the table? Are you daft?” 

You acquiesce promptly. You take a tray to gather up the appropriate cutlery, you’ll be sure to fetch some of the monogrammed napkins as well to compliment the arrangement. The fine porcelain would be in order. 

“Make certain you polish it first,” Bonnie snips as you pass her by. 

“Yes, Aunt Bonnie,” you recite. 

“Yes, Aunt Bonnie,” she mocks derisively and waves you off as she turns to the chef. “Is that how you’re doing the lobster rolls? Those are going to fall apart.” 

That you are not the only one she reprimands hardly makes you feel better. You only feel bad for the chef. That’s the sixth chef she’s hired this year. The others have quit, along with several maids and even the gardener. You don’t have that choice. She’s family and you owe her. 

You rest the tray on a chair and go to grab a cloth to give a cursory wipe to the table. Then, you spread an ivory table cloth over the dark wood and smooth it out. With your canvas laid, you fetch the polish and a new cloth and polish each piece of silver before arranging it. 

As you make your way around the table, the smell of the polish making your head pound and your nose sting, your Aunt Bonnie stomps through the door. She has a vase of tall flowers in hand. She tuts and stops short, her nostrils rounding. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me? I said the blush cloth. To match the icing, thought it will not now. And--” 

She marches over and hugs the crystal vase to her side with one arm. She picks up a spoon, “there is a speck on this one. Are you so disrespectful? Are you doing this on purpose? Do you know who is coming to dinner?” 

“I’m sorry, Aunt--” 

“Your apologies mean nothing. Do better. I will not have you ending up like your mother. I wonder how we are even related,” she sniffs down her nose at you. “I want Frigga to see her reflection in each piece.” She throws the spoon at you and it hits your chin before you catch it. 

“Frigga? Odinson?” You sputter before you can censor yourself. 

“Huh? And what does it matter to you?” She plunks the vase down heavily so the water sloshes onto the cloth. “You won’t be meeting her. I can’t risk that humiliation.” 

She turns her chin up and struts away. You turn to look at the sodden fabric around the base of the crystal and frown. You should be happy to avoid the whole event. The few times you were included, it was only to pour the wine. 

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 11

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All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

@paigereeder thank you for all your help sis! you da goat!!! ❤️🫶🏽

Wednesday Morning

“This is fucking nuts” Kiyana muttered as she placed her head in her hands. Her house was in absolute chaos this morning. Kairo was teething so he was grumpier than normal and Kamari and Kaiden were upset that their dad wasn’t there.  Since Josh was getting more popular within the WWE Universe, he was starting to get requested to do more WWE Live tours.   He had left Monday night for the UK while he did tell the boys that he wouldn’t be home until Friday, it must’ve slipped their tiny minds. 

Kamari and Kaiden  had rushed down the stairs after brushing their teeth only to find the downstairs guest bedroom empty. Kiyna watched with bated breath as their little feet ran into the kitchen, their little faces scrunched up in confusion, looking exactly like carbon copies of their father. Kamari looked towards the glass sliding doors, his eyes widening as if he had a eureka moment and dashed towards the door, pushing the curtain out the way only to let out a sigh of frustration as he saw the backyard was empty too. Kamari then turned and looked at Kiyana. 

“Where’s my dad?” He muttered and he walked over to the table to sit down next to his baby brother, who was in the high chair starting to get fussy again as he chewed on his hand..” Kiyana sighed and grabbed both of their plates off the kitchen counter and brought it over to the table. Once she sat the plates down Kaiden, who had been sulkily looking out of the glass  door, came over and sat down so he could eat. 

“He’s still on the road, Bean.” Kiyana said softly. 

“What! Who's gonna take me to school?”   Kamari, dropped his fork and folded his arms over his chest with a scowl that could rival his fathers. While Kamari was sulking, Kaiden started to cry. Kaiden’s crying was like a domino effect. Kaiden’s crying had triggered Kairo and he started wailing, reaching his arms out for his momma and while Kamari was usually her tough child, she even saw a couple of tears slip down his cheeks.

Kiyana sighed before scooping Kairo out of his highchair and grabbing one of her dining room chairs and moving it between her two older boys and pulling them into her lap comfortably. She quickly pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Josh who responded almost immediately. 

To -  Boys Dad: Hey, are you busy?  From - Boys Dad: For you never  Incoming FaceTime Call from BOYS DAD 

Kiyana answered and the smile that was on Josh’s face quickly dropped. “Aye, what's with all the tears?” All three boys immediately looked towards the phone at the sound of their dads voice. “Wassup y’all?” 

“Who's gonna take me to school?” Kamari repeated his question from earlier, taking the phone out of Kiyana’s hand and holding it himself. 

“Grandma’ is coming to take you. We had this conversation Monday night, Bean. remember at dinner?”  Josh let out a sigh when his sons continued to cry. “I’m sorry. I’ll be home Friday night okay.”  She watched as her boys' tear-streaked faces softened slightly upon hearing their dad's reassurance. “And we can do whatever y’all want to do. Y’all got me for three whole days before I have to leave again.” 

Kamari and Kaiden reluctantly nodded their heads, their crying had eased up. “Alright y’all finish breakfast before Grandma gets here.” Kiyana said softly, pressing a kiss on Kamari and Kaiden’s heads. The boys nodded and blew their dad kisses before getting off of their mothers lap and eating their -now cold pancakes. 

Kiyana took Kairo upstairs to get him dressed so he could go with her mother as well. She was still on the phone with Josh who bit his lip as he looked at her through the screen. “What?” She asked after placing Kairo in his crib with some toys so she could find him an outfit. She set the phone up to where as though she didn’t have to hold it. 

“I feel like shit now, Key.” His voice came through the phone. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit Josh.” She shot back defensively. “I just thought them seeing you would calm them down and it did.”  She grabbed Kairo a couple of outfits out of his closet and started packing his diaper bag. She heard Josh smack his teeth. 

“I’m not blaming you, Kiyana damn. I'm just saying I feel like shit because I know they’re used to seeing me there on Wednesdays.” Kiyana sighed and picked up Kairo and brought him over to the changing table so she could start getting him dressed. “I miss them like crazy.” 

“They miss you too..” 

“What about you? Do you miss me?”  Kiyana sighed and tried to fight the smile from coming on her face. Something happened between them on Monday night. She didn’t know if it was just her emotions running on high or the fact that she actually missed him but she actually initiated the kiss between them. She was the one to pull him closer to her and he was the one who stopped it from going to far.

“You alright?” Josh asked her as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes dropping down to her ass that was encased in a pair of tight black biker shorts.  Kiyana nodded as she finished loading the dishwasher.

“Yeah, I'm just exhausted. The boys sleeping?” 

“Yeah, they rocked.” He laughed and walked closer to her leaning his hip against the counter so he was facing her. “You not mad at me right?” 

“No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just..” She sighed and shrugged, “I just don’t wanna lose my job over this.” She whispered and Josh nodded, now feeling guilty for losing his temper earlier. 

“He put his hands on you Kiyana. He needed to be dealt with.” Kiyana felt the tear slip down her face and before she could wipe it away, Josh stepped closer to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.” 

"I know," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I never wanted you to get involved."

Josh shook his head gently, his eyes locked on hers. "Kiyana, divorced or not, you're still important to me. And I wasn't about to let that bitch put his hands on you.” Kiyana sucked in a deep breath and she stood there, staring into Josh’s eyes. Josh’s eyes dropped down to her lips. 

Kiyana felt her heart rate spike and before she knew it, she was leaning up on her tippy toes connecting her lips to his. Kiyana and Josh both moaned into the kiss as it deepened. Josh gripped the back of thighs and lifted her up, placing her on the counter without breaking their kiss. 

Josh’s hands roamed over Kiyana’s body, his touch sending shivers down her spine as she arched into him. Their kiss deepened even further, as she opened her legs wider and started to pull his shirt over his head. He broke the kiss so he could take his shirt off. 

“Wait,” He panted out as she pulled him back towards her. “Key, wait.” He muttered as she started kissing on his neck. “Key, fuck.” He muttered out as she moaned into his skin when she started to grind her hips against his erection. He placed his hands on her hips, using all of his strength to stop her from grinding on him. “I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning.” He grunted out as he pushed himself away from her. 

She nodded her head, her eyes glistening with a mix of desire and disappointment. She took a deep breath, steadying herself on the counter. "You're right," she whispered, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“You aint got nothing to be sorry for Key.” He grabbed his shirt off the kitchen floor and put it back on before looking down at his watch and cursing. “Fuck, I gotta go finish packing.” She nodded and hopped off the counter and followed him to the front door.  “I’ll see you on Friday okay.” 

“Key, you still with me?” She jumped as she heard Josh’s voice call out to her. As she looked over at the phone she could see the hickey that she left on his neck. “Kiyana?” 

“Yeah I'm still here.” She whispered, licking her lips. “And Yes, I do miss you.” 

“Good, because I miss you too.” 

Kiyana kept her head down as she went to the nurses station, ignoring the stares of her co-workers who had undoubtedly heard about the ass whooping Josh put on Elijah. 

“Don’t yall have work to do?” Debra asked, startling the two nurses who were staring at Kiyana and whispering back and forth with each other. “Go on, shoo.” She said, motioning them along with a roll of her eyes. “They acting like they never seen someone get their ass whooped before. How was your two days off?” 

Kiyana chucked and swiveled her chair so she was facing Debra. “It was cool.  Felt like old times again, just me and my boys.” 

“And Josh?” Debra asked, being her nosey self and Kiyana bit her lip and shrugged.  

“I mean he was there too. The boys wouldn’t let him leave.” Debra let out a ‘hmm’ and Kiyana furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” 

“I’m just saying, it was hella cute how he went after Dr. Daniels for you.” 

“Ms Deb…” Key trailed off with a roll of her eyes. 

“And Seeing y’all standing next to each other.” She whistled and flagged herself with her hand. “Y’all one hot couple.” 

“That got a divorce for a reason..” 

Debra raised an eyebrow, sensing Kiyana's discomfort. "I get it, I get it," she said, her voice softening. "But seriously though, it must've been nice having some time off with your boys. You needed that."

“Yeah I really did.” She whispered, biting her lip as another flash of her and Josh kissing popped in her head. 

Kiyana went through the rest of the day thinking about Josh; she had to stop herself from texting him about six different times. Instead she texted Samara who called her and literally laughed on the phone. Kiyana had hung up on her… she was not in the mood. 

As she walked back towards her station after her lunch break she was floored to see a beautiful bouquet waiting near where she normally sat. Debra gave her a teasing smile and nodded her head towards the card. Kiyana rolled her eyes and picked the card up, her heart hammering in her chest as she started to read it.

I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you, to us. But being with you the other day, I realized how much I fucked up and I hope you can find it in you to give me a chance to fix everything. Ps. sorry us Fatu men keep giving you a hard time.  Love Josh 

soooo.. what do you guys think? Y'all thonk Kiyana is gonna forgive him for the afffair? Or y'all think she just gone use him to get her rocks off lol?

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

[chosotallgf]

UNEXPECTED TURN - CHOSO KAMO [chapter 1]

SUMMARIZE.. y/n never bothered getting to know choso after the shibuya incident happened and he became an ally to jujutsu high but what happens when he decides to try and get to know her on a personal level and they start getting put on mission together

TAGS.. choso x fem!reader, shibuya incident arc spoilers!!, post shibuya incident au, character dearth mentioned, slow burn, smut, angst, reader is a sorcerer, oral sex, masturbation + more

A/N.. hi this is my first fanfic ever also I posted it on A03 under the same username. keep in mind I’m a beginner at writing lol. like & rebolgs are appreciated | DONT NOT REUPLOAD :D

………………………………………………………………………………….

you and choso where out having lunch discussing your plans for an upcoming mission later that day. It’s been half a year since the shibuya incident, even after the many deaths that took place that night you ended up finding yourself making a new connection later down the line

choso become an ally for jujutsu high short after the incident, first it started off with you two getting place together to go on small missions together outside of Tokyo. When you first heard of the idea of you and choso being partner up you weren’t a big fan of it, everyone seem to connect well off of first interaction and start to enjoy choso company especially after finding out that he is yuji half brother but you? barely even talk/avoided him outside of missions.

“what are you thinking about”? choso asked as he saw your blank expression as you two were waiting on the food to come out “Huh? oh.. just that how much I hate working with you that’s all” you softly smirk at him. you love teasing choso so often that become y’all daily thing to do to each other. One day after you and choso got back from a mission you were about to head out of jujutsu high until you heard fast steps catching up to you.

“hey.. um y/n you have a moment?” choso asked awkward while scratching the back of his head. you then turn around and sign “yeah what is it?” choso honestly wasn’t sure how he should approach you, when y’all get sent on mission its just strictly about the mission no personal stuff about each other lives, nothing.

he kinda took the hint that you didn’t want to conversation about anything outside of that 3 weeks after the incident when you both were on the train headed to koyto and he asked how long you been a sorcery at jujutsu high and you responded with “why do you care just let’s just do our jobs, the faster the better”

every since then choso didn’t dare to bring up anything after that until the day he generally was curious and had enough of this ‘only talk during and about the mission thing’ he wasn’t a pushy person but he can bet there has to be more to you than this nonchalant mask you are pulling because of the story’s yuji told him when he himself first started out and you and gojo teach him. he had to know why you were so casual with everyone but not him

“Sorry to bother you y/n, don’t take this the wrong way but did I genuinely do something to offend you? every since I came to jujutsu high and going on mission I feel like you been bothered by my presence of that makes any sense” your response could go south either way choso though he didn’t know if you would just curse him out or just turn around and keep ignoring him like you been. “Are you that much of new puppy that you need everyone attention and become friends?”

“hey wait a min don’t go yet” as you turned your head a little bit choso could see your eyes get glossy. “Let me go pls” you barley spoke. A single tear fell down your face. “I’m sorry if it’s becaus-“ choso was about to finish his sentence until gojo loudly interrupted them.

“Heyy choso how have you been? Oh y/n you there too? did you file the last mission yet I haven’t seen it yet if you did” gojo said when he got a glimpse of your hair behind choso back as he was walking up to y’all. as soon as you heard gojo voice you quickly pull your wrist back from choso and he let go.

you then quickly rush off campus and into your car. “Hey come back” choso shouted. You thought how embarrassing that was,now you wouldn’t even dare show your face in front of choso now after he seen you in that state. “I guess she really doesn’t like doing reports after all” gojo said confused.

part 2 coming soon… don’t forget to like & reblog :)

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Wild Horses

Part 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.

🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.

Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.

Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.

At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.

The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.

He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.

And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.

On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.

Now back to the current.

That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?

"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.

You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."

You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.

"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.

God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.

"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.

"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"

"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."

Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.

So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.

Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.

"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.

"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.

"Soap? How?”

"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."

"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.

“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.

“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”

“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.

“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.

"The fuck is that?"

".................cocaine."

"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”

You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.

"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”

"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."

Right. "What kind is it?”

"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."

"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”

"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”

Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.

“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.

“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.

“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.

“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.

“They’re downright hideous.”

“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.

Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."

"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.

As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.

The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.

That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.

He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?

It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.

And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.

"What time will you be back?"

"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."

“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.

"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.

The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.

"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.

"The fuck are those?"

"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.

"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.

"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.

“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”

Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.

But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.

“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.

“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.

Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”

“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”

“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.

“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.

“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.

“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”

"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.

Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.

You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.

“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”

“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.

When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.

But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.

During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.

The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.

As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.

He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.

You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.

The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.

“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?

“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.

You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.

“What-what happened?”

“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.

“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.

“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."

Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.

Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.

“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”

“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”

“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."

“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.

“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"

“No. No, I’m fine.”

"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."

"Of course."

The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.

Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.

"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.

"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.

"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”

"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.

“I will?”

"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."

"Oh.....okay."

Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"..............Hey y/n."

"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.

"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."

Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.

He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.

The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.

Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.

“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.

"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."

Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."

The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.

Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.

The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.

Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”

“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.

“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.

“Sorry?”

“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”

“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."

After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.

This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.

Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.

Now, moving on.

By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.

So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.

When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ghost?”

Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.

“Is everything alright?”

Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.

“You’re not hurt are you?”

“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.

“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”

“Another time.”

“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.

He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.

You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.

“Well? Whadya want?”

“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“

“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”

“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”

“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.

“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“

Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.

"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”

A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?

Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.

"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.

“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.

“…………….”

"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."

“……………………..”

“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.

Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.

Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.

“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“

"I'll do it."

“What-“

“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”

“Alrigh-”

“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.

"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."

Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.

"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.

“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."

"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.

"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.

And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.

"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"

".................."

"Right. I forget you don't speak."

Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.

"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.

"............."

A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.

More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.

"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."

You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.

“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”

“……………….”

Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.

“REM.”

“……………….”

Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.

“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”

Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.

There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.

While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.

You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.

When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.

“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”

Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.

Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.

“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”

“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.

“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.

As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.

Part 4

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[hp-hcs]

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 428: Night of the Kouhai

Previously on BnHA: Well at least Spinner is sort of kind of doing okay??

Today on BnHA: I see the check that I sent to Horikoshi finally cleared.

okay first things first, you all know how it is right. I’ve never made a secret of my Kacchan bias on this blog. I promise you I did actually write a recap to 426 and 427 as well, but both of those chapters went HEAVY on the themes and drama and philosophical shit, and my reactions were kind of all over the place, and the Todoroki one in particular was like a million words wrong and it needs a shit ton of editing which I don’t know when I’ll have the spoons for

on the other hand however, a chapter like this which features class 2A cuteness and an absolutely unreasonable amount of Kacchan character development fanservice to hyperfixate on, takes absolutely no spoons at all and in fact actively recharges some of my spoons, so yeah. here we are

anyway so when we last left off Kacchan and Shouto were in terrible danger from a threat more terrifying than any they’ve ever encountered before. so I already knew this chapter was going to be great

“IIDA IS BIG AND STRONG AND AUTHORITATIVE, LET’S HIDE BEHIND HIM, HE WILL PROTECT US” everyone, I’m delighted to announce that the BnHA manga ending arc, despite having its ups and downs until this point, has officially been saved thanks to this panel right here. pack it up folks. this was officially a sweeping success. this panel brought Tomura back to life and teleported Touya’s mind back into his childhood self from roughly ten years ago time travel fix-it style. Horikoshi you beautiful bastard

Shouto trying to explain that he can handle them one on one but just not ALL TOGETHER IN THIS TERRIFYING SWARM LIKE THIS... buddy you don’t have to explain yourself sob. or is he trying to negotiate with them??

meanwhile Kacchan skips the negotiations entirely because he’s already assessed the situation and knows that the best way to handle this is to appeal to Iida Tenya’s boundless love of regulation and social order

y’all it’s killing me that this boy can handle being LITERALLY MURDERED by the greatest evil the world has ever known. but a group of admiring fifteen year old kouhais? no sir. that’s where he taps out

“but I thought Bakugou liked attention” yes well, you see, Shinsou, it’s kinda a “monkey’s paw curls” sort of thing

Kaminari with the BLACK SPEECH BUBBLE lmfao. FRIENDSHIP WITH KACCHAN HAS BEEN CANCELLED. NOW MIDORIYA IS MY BEST FRIEND

“well you see up until recently the ladies all thought Kacchan was a feral troll so they avoided him at all costs” wow Deku this man literally died for you and you just throw him under the bus with zero hesitation just like that

“SOURCE: ME, HIS CHILDHOOD FRIEND” just adding in his credentials in that little footnote there lest anyone question his authority on the subject

wait so is Shinsou surprised that girls used to not like Kacchan? or is he surprised that Kacchan and Deku were childhood friends? I can see how the latter might be surprising (oh Shinsou, sometimes I forget that you effectively just got here. we have so much to catch you up on. you will not BELIEVE how badly the two of these kids just want to hold hands all the time), but ngl, I’m rooting for the former just for the implications. “you’re seriously telling me a certified ten like him never had any girls interested in him?”

Horikoshi, hear me out, I know there are only two chapters left after this, and they’ve both already been written. but if you wanted to rewrite one of them at the last minute in order to add about a dozen more pages solely dedicated to Shinsou interrogating the rest of class 2A about Kacchan’s love life, out of what he insists is just innocent curiosity with no ulterior motives. well, I would not complain about that

anyway so yes Shinsou he is still single, for now. though I don’t really think it’s the girls you need to be worried about

meanwhile Mineta is all, “I just wanted to let all of you know MY opinion, which is that Bakugou isn’t morally upstanding enough for my delicate sensibilities.” yes you heard that right. Mineta of all people is weighing in on which personalities are deserving of being popular. that’s some audacity right there

A WILD DEKU FANBOY APPEARS???!

“IT GAVE ME COURAGE” omg yesssssss. jotting this down for essay material at some future point in time!! because THIS. this right here is the true “what it means to be a hero” in my opinion. a hero is someone who brings reassurance, yes. someone who makes people feel safe. but I think a hero should also be someone who makes people feel brave. someone who inspires other people to be heroic in turn. so yes, this, all of this, inject it into my veins. wtg Deku

having an official fanboy apparently broke Deku’s brain. hang in there bud. I know you’ve still got villain angst to work through, but try to enjoy this. you’re allowed to have nice things

IS MINETA STRANGLING KACCHAN BY HIS FUCKING TIE OMFG. THAT’S WHY HE NEVER USED TO WEAR THEM. also you’ve worn my patience down all the way now Mineta. get the fuck out of my blog

also Kacchan successfully beat the shit out of him with his ONE GOOD ARM so take that Mineta

also shoutout to this KiriBaku moment right here which feels like the first time we’ve had the two of them together in ages. good stuff

I’m LOVING this panel of Ochako staring at Deku all indecipherably, but ngl it’s also giving me just the slightest bit of anxiety, because does this mean we’re finally gonna get answers on what ultimately happened to Toga. it better not be sad. please don’t ruin my happy chapter with depressing things Horikoshi

“tell them no” OH MY GOD AIZAWA’S TURNING DOWN ALL THE INTERVIEW REQUESTS FOR HIS KIDS SO THEY CAN JUST BE KIDS AGAIN FOR A LITTLE WHILE nooooo what is this. “yeah but I’m prioritizing the kids who aren’t up for dishing to the media about all of their horrific trauma.” omfg. it’s been too long since my last Dadzawa feels. I wasn’t ready after all this time

you guys Izuku finally got a new hero costume that’s not in tatters after all this time. all it took was his old costume getting literally torn to shreds. and now he’s back to looking twelve years old again lol

JEANIST AND FATGUM REUNION?!?! RETURN OF KACCHAN’S THIRD DAD, AND A SECOND WACKY UNCLE TO BACK UP GOOD OLD MIC? GOD BLESS

FAT HIRED TAMAKI AS A SIDEKICK D’AWWWW

now they’re putting the kids to work. glorified janitorial duty. Deku you better not be using up any more of your embers on this sob

this motherfucker did not just liken my baby boy Kacchan to “distressed denim” omg. we have less than three chapters left and we’re spending our hard-earned time on this and I TRULY WOULD NOT CHANGE A SINGLE THING

“Kacchan on light duty” PROTECT HIM!!! don’t think I don’t see you over there too in the background, Aizawa. he’s surrounded by dads. they’re not letting him out of their sight again until he’s thirty

meanwhile he’s out here quietly sorting through trash with his one good hand without complaint and without even the barest hint of a gremlin face. with his half-and-half costume so we can’t see how fucked up his arm is. AND NO MORE MASK. we burned the mask. my thank you letters are in the mail, Horikoshi. and you too TomurAFO, this was your actual greatest contribution to society

ANOTHER DAD?!?!?!

dfjsdlfksldkfjl

“don’t worry, I’m gradually recovering” fsdfkslfkj r.i.p. my ability to take this man seriously ever again. do you think his voice is like the normal sexy Edgeshot ASMR voice except all high-pitched like a squirrel in a Disney princess movie. it is, isn’t it

he can make hands now. buddy you’re amazing. mvp of the entire fucking manga. my son literally owes you his life. please let me see you sitting Jeanist’s shoulder like a parrot before this wonderful glorious chapter ends

Kacchan’s little cheek scar is somehow both badass and adorable at the same time. I can’t stress how fucking much this chapter is just surrounding me with “protect him at all costs” feelings.

MORE SOFT KACCHAN FEELS ON THE NEXT PAGE BECAUSE HORIKOSHI WROTE THIS CHAPTER SPECIFICALLY FOR ME, THANK YOU SO MUCH

“are you... [ever] gonna go back to normal?” because if not he’s gonna cry himself to sleep every night for the rest of his life!! no big!! YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT TO HIM WOULD YOU EDGESHOT?

NO HE WOULD NOT. THANK YOU EDGESHOT. ONCE AGAIN YOU ARE A REAL ONE

...or wait. so does he mean he is indeed going to go back to normal eventually? or is it that he’s embracing this new form as an exciting new evolution, hence the “even further”? it kind of feels like the latter, ngl. especially with this weird sad little smile Kacchan gives in response... fuck me. what the hell am I gonna do when this series ends in two weeks. nobody can rip my soul to pieces as utterly and effortlessly as Horikoshi does, man

THEY MADE THE KIDS LUNCH AWWWW. though in fairness there’s something seriously messed up with Japan if any of these kids ever has to pay for another meal again for the REST OF THEIR LIVES. like come on

noooooo goddammit I’m tired of seeing Izuku quietly despairing over things that AREN’T HIS FAULT

I am glad to see this side of the civilian population, though. sure have come a long way since the low point that was the U.A. clown mob. I like this a whole lot better ngl

what’s up with this mysterious bus all of a sudden

OH MY GOD THEY’RE BACK LMAO. QUICKLY BAKUDADS. form a perimeter

they’re apologizing again dsfkjlskdfjlsfd THEY DIDN’T EVEN CONSIDER EVERYONE’S CIRCUMSTANCES!!! holy shit these first years are all collectively my new favorite character

Cementoss couldn’t take the pressure omfg. is this your first year as a homeroom teacher?? YOU CAN MAKE ANYTHING OUT OF CEMENT BUT CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF A FREAKING SPINE, CEMENTOSS. I love him

Cementoss is telling them to go work in the corner so they don’t bother everyone else lmao. stuck them as far away from Kacchan as possible. good looking out, Cementoss. how many dads are we up to now?? five? six if we count Iida????

“hey so anyway what actually is up with these fucking kouhai though” I don’t know but my greatest regret is that this only became a thing three chapters before the series finale. where has this nonsense been all my life

“I don’t really understand” me neither fella but here in BnHA land we just roll with it

now we’re cutting back to Ochako who’s making yet another mysterious face that makes me think she knows perfectly well how much we all want to know whether Toga is alive or not, and she’s deliberately dragging it out just to fuck with us

okay I honestly can’t tell if Ochako is being fake cheerful or genuinely cheerful. but it’s definitely fake cheerful right??

aaaaand there’s a close up of Deku with FULL LIGHT back in his eyes like the clouds just parted for the first time in an age. accompanied by a THROB sound effect. ohhhh buddy. did my boy just have a hormone. is it finally that time

THEY’RE LETTING THE KIDS GO BACK HOME OMG. if they want. awwww. r.i.p. fanfic dorms. poor Shinsou missing out ONCE AGAIN

THEY DIDN’T CATCH THE CONCLUSION OF THE TOGACHAKO FIGHT ON FILM??! oh hell no. that settles it, she’s definitely still alive

tell me this cheeky motherfucker (Horikoshi, not Ochako lol) isn’t going to try and actually END THE SERIES with Toga’s fate still all ~mysterious~ and ~up in the air~ like I’m starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he’s doing

HORIKOSHI I SAID I DIDN’T WANT A DEPRESSING CHAPTER WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME WITH THESE FEELS AFTER I LET MY GUARD DOWN

YOU REALLY GAVE MY GIRL A SYMBOLIC FRODO STYLE ANGSTY STAB WOUND SO SHE CAN NEVER FORGET THE PAIN OF THAT DAY ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW WITH THIS

DEKU AHHHHHH

oh my god lol. I’m so curious what’s going to happen next week. my money for the record is on them bonding in a STRICTLY PLATONIC WAY over their respective dead(!??!?!) villains rather than a Romance Thing happening. but I wouldn’t be bothered if they do go there though just so long as we don’t get any timeskip epilogues where they’ve all got fucking kids and such now. don’t you do that to me Horikoshi Kouhei. I swear to god two chapters left omfg. this is really happening. the inexorable march of time etc. etc. ahhhhhhhhh

[everybodyhatesmiddleschool]

It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikiad into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Eleven Part One-Tears, fears, and not so secret discussions

Three important things real quick to make things a bit more clear before we head to the story:

1-) November and December suck up any free time I have. This is due to things I have to do in my personal life that include family, my education, and my work. Because of this updates will be sporadic until mid December with the exception of Christmas. Which is slightly unfortunate because I love writing given it’s my passion.

2-) I’ve avoided using curse words in my writing till now, but I will be holding a poll soon to see if the majority of y’all don’t mind cause I don’t care either way.

3-) Just to let y’all know Reader Cannon Age in the story is going to be 17,998. This is because I headcannon that every thousand years is like one year to immortals, and I want the reader in the story to be just almost an adult which would be at eighteen thousand. But before entering the story the Reader was already an adult for a while so their treatment of her is going to cause her discomfort as someone who is mentally no longer a young almost adult.

The characters ages are as follows:

Barbatos: time itself tbh

Lucifer: 24,331

Diavolo: 24,451 (I feel like he and Lucifer are really close in age given their dynamic with each other, but Diavolo is just slightly older.)

Mammon: 23,302

Leviathan: 22,856

Satan: 22,560

Asmodeus: 21,985

Beelzebub: 21,005

Belphegore: 21,005

Simeon: 24,556

Luke: 10,115

Solomon: He lost track and doesn’t even bother with his age beyond 6000, but he’s considered an adult instead of a 6 year old equivalent given that he’s human and their lifespans aren’t supposed to be that long. He’ll always say he’s 6,000 and holding 😂.

Mephistopheles: 23,334 (he’s around 1,000 years younger than Diavolo because I’m sticking to the canon of him being born to be Diavolo’s friend/playmate for his parents status.)

Thirteen: a lady never tells her age but before she was a grim reaper I headcanon that she died at 25 as a human so still an adult.

Yuki: 16 nearing 17 (Yuki’s appearance btw will be based off of my MC as will her background story which will be revealed later on. I can’t wait to put her in the story cause I thrive on foreshadowing.

It’s also part of my headcanon for immortals like demons and angels to not really care about their age past the thousands part. So if someone asks their age they’ll say 23 instead of 23,560 because to them it makes more sense. Most don’t even celebrate their birthdays every year and only celebrate them when it seems to matter like every thousand years. The only exception to this is when their a figure of importance or of great respect. Then they celebrate every single year. This will be important later on so when introductions are eventually made soon, I hope this clears up any misunderstandings. Have a lovely day and enjoy the story!

(Y/N) POV:

I blinked slowly and struggled to sit up. Barbatos quickly assisted me carefully while chiding me. “Your still a bit weak, My Lady. Be careful.”

“Y-yes, Barbatos.” I stuttered out confused. His behavior was vastly more familiar than before. Just how well did this cliche work?! I told Glitch mentally to prepare a status update for me.

“Where are my Brothers?” I hesitated for a moment acting a bit shy. “Are they… here?” I let my shoulder droop a bit in an act of disappointment not seeing them near.

“Your brothers are nearby. They have taken a moment to rest while waiting for you to wake up. It’s quite late at night.” He gathered a blanket from a linen closet and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Here bundle up, My Lady.” He then walked over to the fireplace checking over the fire.

I sat there staring, just feeling genuinely confused. Those sedatives really did a number on me I suppose since my cognitive ability is still waking up. I could tell I felt stronger though. Where before I felt like glass I now felt more sturdy.

“I will inform the others of your change in condition.” Barbatos bowed before leaving.

“A competent butler is truly something else…” I mumbled. “He knows exactly what to do so fast.” 

“Status update prepared.” Glitch announced popping into existence in front of me.

I read the screen carefully as discreetly as I could. It seems like this worked better than I bargained for. I never realized they had a savior complex. But then again they always seemed to call the player in the game human as if they’re weak no matter how strong they showed they are so I suppose it makes sense. They must need to perceive someone they care about as weaker than them, and it appears I have officially stolen that spot. What will happen to the game timeline now? Did I girl boss my way too close to the sun…?

The uncertainty made me tremble. Till now things have been completely under my control. I knew this was necessary for me to do as a step towards my end goal but still… I felt panic grip my heart. Panic attacks were no stranger to me. Before I died I used to have them all the time. But it felt like ages ago compared to all I had achieved till now.

(Panic attack described below based off of ones I’m used to. Everyone reacts differently to different levels of panic attacks. I’m just going to describe how I’m familiar with one. I want to add a warning in case anyone finds this triggering to not read till my next note.)

I felt like there was cement gripping my heart in my chest shrinking it smaller. My vision felt glassy and my cheeks felt wet. Was I crying? I don’t understand. I feel like I can’t move but I’m clearly shaking. I saw drops of water hitting the blanket I was gripping in a death grip. Ah, so I am crying. Why won’t it stop, why won’t the shaking stop? I want to be small, I feel too big… How’s my mind so calm when I’m freaking out so much?! Why won’t my body listen to me?! I’m still in control so just listen!

I felt someone grip me in a vice grip. Something dark covered my vision. It felt soft and warm. I’m so cold, why am I so cold? I slowly realized I heard sobbing. It sounded like someone was grasping for breath. Was that… me? Why won’t my lungs take in oxygen? I’m telling them to. I clutched whoever was holding me. It felt nice now that I got over the initial shock and fear of being suddenly held. After a while the shaking subsided and I was only hiccuping a bit from all the crying.

(The description is over so it’s safe to read from here if panic attacks being described triggers you. I hope this helped you avoid it if you wanted to.)

Hands stroked my head still slowly as a quite comforting chirp of sorts sounded from whoever it was. I looked up slightly with puffy eyes. “B-big b-brother…?” I gripped him tighter. “Y-your here?” I felt shocked. I hadn’t expected anyone to show up after being updated.

“Yes, I’m here. We all are.” Lucifer lifted his wings from around me as he chirped comfortingly. Cooing to me in reassurement as he held me tighter. “What’s wrong little one? Who scared you?”

“N-no one, Lucifer.” They all gave me doubting looks and I shrunk down a bit.

“It’s okay, you're not in trouble. Just tell us who caused you to have a panic attack. We just want to talk to them.” Satan's smile as he reassured me was scary. It didn’t seem like it’d be a simple talk at all.

I looked down in embarrassment. “No one caused it. I w-was just alone, a-and got scared.” Tears pricked my eyes. Of course I couldn’t tell them the truth. At least Glitch protected me from Diavolo’s gift to see lies. And I wasn’t even really lying, just not telling the whole truth.

“Oh, Darling, don’t worry we’re all here now.” Asmodeus said as he held one of my hands soothingly. “It’s late. Why don’t you cozy up and get comfy. You have a big, big day tomorrow.” His tone was almost patronizing the way he talked as if I was a little kid when I clearly was not. I was too tired after my panic attack to protest though as they all tucked me in.

“I’m sorry, My Lady. I should’ve realized you would be scared to be left alone. I have no words to describe my regret now.” Barbatos apologized, bowing in regret. “My incompetence is unforgivable.”

“It’s alright.” I mumble half asleep. “You didn’t do it on purpose.” I yawned as all my brothers kissed my forehead one by one saying goodnight.

Lucifer POV:

I held (Y/N) in my arms carefully while she slept. A brief argument had broken out in the hall over who would be the one to do so, but I put an end to it immediately. Tomorrow it will be Mammons turn, and it will eventually start over after Belphie’s.

I stroked her hair lightly, still cooing a bit to her in comfort. I can’t believe out of all the things I didn’t notice, I never noticed she suffered from panic attacks. I still remember all the nights I spent helping my brother with their ptsd from the celestial war. Those seven thousand years we spent fighting our own kind only to fail, and end up what we were taught to hate and despise… It messed us up, and we were all adults. What must it have done to a small child?

The pain of the fall, the feeling of being ripped apart and unmade, and the horror of being in what we thought would be a land full of beings who would kill us on sight… Even just the smell of the blood we were drenched in from after the fall. She was three thousand at the time. Did she even know what it all meant?

My grip tightened causing her to shift in her sleep. I shushed her gently back to settling. She must be exhausted from the sedative still.

(Honestly this is the most I can post right now. I really wish I could post more, but my life involves more than writing unfortunately. 😭 Even though it’s Sunday I still have so much left to do today lol.)

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: their favorite types of kisses

characters: reader x gojo, reader x geto

warnings: language (i have the mouth of a sailor sry)

AN: i am a geto apologist til the day i die argue w ya mama

also if u want another part w diff character lmk!!

SATORU GOJO

giving: a kiss to the top of YOUR eyelids

we all know that he has the most beautiful & powerful eyes of all time

but it’s your eyes that knock the breath out of him

no matter the color he thinks they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen

in his mind your eyes overpower his any day

i mean your eyes are the only thing to ever have the ability to bring the strongest sorcerer to his knees

and besides your eyes are the first to ever see him

the real him

not gojo satoru, the honored one

or gojo satoru, the six eyes

you just see, him, satoru

the satoru that hogs the blankets at night

the satoru that lets a few tears slip during romance movies but you better not bring it up bc “no i just got something in my eyes!!”

the satoru that adopted two children at 16 and had no idea what he was doing but did a damn good job at it

the satoru that loves you because you see the things that other people wouldn’t be bothered to see

receiving: a kiss to the underside of his jaw

this is a tall ass man

so it’s unlikely (but ofc always possible) that you’re tall enough to plant a kiss on his cheek without him bending down for you to reach

big tall man make me go brrrrr

he will bend down for u ofc

after teasing u to death

but he thinks it’s much cuter to see you stand on ur tip toes to give him a kiss

plus he’s hot, he knows he’s hot

i can hear his annoying ass rn, “cmon babe you gotta be careful kissing me there! this jawline is sharp enough to cut steel”

like yea.. it is.. but shut the fuck up an lemme kiss u some more

i love him

SUGURU GETO

giving: a kiss on your forehead

I LOVE HIM HE WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO HURT ANYONE EVER I KNOW BECAUSE HE TOLD ME SO

ahem… anyways

sweetheart of sweethearts!!

he’s a lil more reserved when it comes to PDA but not to the point where he’s not gonna show you affection

he’s just not the typa person to have a full on make out sesh with you in the hallway if ykwim

but he will plant a kiss in the middle of your forehead after he walks you to your next class

oh y’all just finished a mission and you’re going back to your dorm to take a nap?

1. bold of you to assume he’s not coming with you and kissing you on the forehead before y’all fall asleep together all cuddled up

2. if he’s not taking a nap with you, he’s tucking you into bed and leaving a kiss on your forehead before he leaves your room

id marry him cause he’s never done anything wrong in his entire life

receiving: a kiss to the top of his knuckles

HE WOULD RECEIVE KISSES EVERYWHERE IF IT WERE FROM ME

again… ahem.. anyways

jujitsu sorcery in the wise words of nanami kento “SUCKS”

it sucks

and he uses his hands to fight and kill allegedly on the daily

his hands have been covered in blood

his hands have brought death upon people no they haven’t

so for you to kiss them?

geto takes it as a declaration of undeniable, unfaltering loyalty and love

which it is obviously

it means a lot to him

and sometimes when his doubts get to him and he thinks he’s unworthy of someone like you…

press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and those thoughts and insecurities disappear

[valeskawhore]

IMAGINE:

An exchanged student from America! Coming to UA to fulfill the wishes from their father, Not wanting to be a hero what-so ever.

It doesn’t matter to you. Yes you’ve been born with a strong quirk but that doesn’t matter, that wasn’t your life’s passion!

But you’re father being the man he is,

Rich

Narcissistic

Arrogant

And needing their only child to be perfect,

Sets up a conversation with you and the one and only nezu, the principal of UA!

You don’t need to try out, you don’t need to pass any written exams, show off for anyone. Your father already took care of that and had you preform in your quirk space where you do all your training and recorded you and your strategies.

A/n: “I really wanna make a soulmate! AU with this, I’m think katsuki? Really angsty? My interpretation and hyper realism on how I think things would go down with his character in the anime? Not fan!bakugo but can!bakugo?

Lemme know what y’all think!!!!

You sat in front of the small little rodent who ran this pathetic hero training course. One leg crossed over the other and your chin in the palm of your hand as you stared out the window.

You had made no attempts to answer his questions or even look in his big eyes for all that matter. His cheery voice and attitude was enough to make you vomit alone. And you weren’t even going to mention his disgusting fashion taste.

A scar settled on the right side of his face. The only thing you could wonder was that someone luckier already beat you to the punch of wanting to scratch this rodents eyes out.

You continued to stare out the window, your mind caught in another world as your eyes blurred and your head ached. Something twisted in your stomach when you heard the ray mention your father. It snapped you back to reality.

Nezu sighed and took a sip of his tea, “Y/n L/n, if you really don’t want to attend UA then why are you here?” He questioned, with another sip, “You’re quirk is extraordinary to say at the least and even that is an understatement but I’m going to need some cooperation for this interview to work.”

I rolled my eyes and sat up with a sarcastic smile, “Sure, anything you need”

Nezu sighed nice more, and sat his tea cup off to the side.

“Tell me.. y/n.. why should I even let you into UA?” He wondered, “Element bending quirks are extremely rare, there’s so much you could do with them.. but I’m afraid there’s more people more enthusiastic than you to take your position, maybe even more qualified.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you into UA, an inspiring hero must act heroic even behind the scenes.”

My stomach dropped, but I slowly steadied myself. I stood to my feet and eyed the rodent down. I knew something like this would have to be pushed just a little bit..

“Principal Nezu.” I called out, he looked up at me.

“With the powers I have.. you even said it your self, they’re beyond powerful in todays society.” Nezu nodded and patiently waited for me to proceed.

My eyes darkened and so did the room around me as I gave a small smile. “And because of that, I’m going to ask you to rethink your decision” I slowly walked up to Nezu and placed my hands on the burgundy wood and leaned close to his face.

“Because with these powers.. I could either become the worlds greatest supervillain or the worlds greatest hero.. whether or not you let me into UA will determine it’s fate.” I smiled, my eyes sparkled with something .. insane. Before I pulled away and turned my back towards the door.

“I trust you’ll make the right decision. The worlds fate is in your hands.. but trust, I will make my father proud regardless” I winked.

Nezu gulped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*